Nine Lives - Danielle Steel Page 0,87

broken and sad and depressed and half crazy until she gave in to dementia because she couldn’t face reality anymore.

She went swimming alone after that, off the boat, and sliced through the clear water. He was a lucky man, and he didn’t even know it. He didn’t see what he had, the beauty around him, the people who loved him. All he saw were the risks he had to take, the odds he had to beat, the gambles he had to win. He was a gambler to the core. Since she’d been with him, he’d been injured in a race, risked prison, and nearly died in Canada. It was enough.

She didn’t know how she’d explain it to Aden, but she’d find a way. She had buried one man she loved, but couldn’t bury two. She’d thought she’d have to after Canada, and somehow he had been spared. Now he was going to risk everything on another race. It had nothing to do with his contract and he knew it too. It was all about him and the demon inside him that needed to dance with death again. And one day, the demon would win.

Chapter 16

Maggie was quiet for the last two weeks on the boat. She rested and swam, and made notes for her online gallery that she knew she had put off for too long, while she focused all her energy on Paul and lived on his schedule.

She didn’t mention the race again and neither did Paul. He had told her. That was enough. She didn’t need to know more. She didn’t need to go anywhere, or argue with him, or try to reason with him. She turned inward, and Paul eventually noticed how quiet she was.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. He thought she seemed tired and pale. She almost looked worse than he did after his near-death experience. After nearly two months of rest, he looked even better than before, and was in flawless shape. He was working out in the gym every day, to get ready to race again, and his hands and feet were fine. The circulation was fully restored. His trainer told him he was a miracle and he knew it too. Maggie had been part of it. She had brought him back from the dead, and he was grateful to her.

“I’m fine,” she said softly. She seemed oddly removed to him, and he wondered if she should see a doctor in London or New York. He knew that what had happened to him had been traumatic for her too, and she had been selfless in caring for him. The days in Lake Forest had been among the most tender in his life. No woman he had ever known would have done that for him, but now he was back to life. He had mountains to climb and battles to fight. He had thought of retiring, when he was in the hospital, but knew it wasn’t time. If he had lost his hands and feet he would have had no choice. But the way had opened up for him, and he knew that it meant he wasn’t ready to quit. He still had races to win. Soon he would be too old, but not yet. He was going to squeeze the last drop out of the fruit that still tasted so sweet to him. He had worried about Maggie’s reaction, when he finally told her about the race, but she had taken it well. She hadn’t begged him, or argued with him, or threatened to leave him. She was a noble woman and she loved him. He loved her too. And racing was his job. She couldn’t expect him to leave it at fifty, while he knew he could still win.

The final days on the boat were peaceful. His phone meetings got longer, the deals more intense. He had taken a huge risk on the commodities market again, and won. He had made a killing while sitting on the boat. He loved it.

Maggie swam a lot, and she worked on her computer, contacting artists she wanted to represent. She had twelve of them now, and said she was going to keep it small at first, test the model, and not grow too fast. She wanted to keep it exclusive. He would have gone bigger and bolder, but he let her do what she thought best.

They had a romantic dinner on the boat on the last night. She looked beautiful in a white